


Insanity

by Rapterkitten



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Angst, Dark, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Insane!Kid, Insanity, Madness, Short, drabble sort of thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:34:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rapterkitten/pseuds/Rapterkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a thing about being insane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insanity

Oh, she's looking at me with that look again.

How dare she. I don't want her pity or her so-called words of encouragement. I don't want her words at all, I don't want her to touch me, or look at me. _"Just stop!"_ I scream, but she won't. She keeps looking on with that same old pity, the pity I receive from so many people. My friends, my 'family'. Or should I just say my so called father?Well. He's a liar. I know he is. I just _know_ it. I tried to tell Elizabeth. She doesn't understand, she never understands. She never understood anything.

_"Kid, nothings wrong with the painting"_

_"You're not trash, Kid."_

_"Just stop fretting over it, Kid, it's fine."_

But I can't, and it's as simple as that. I can't, I am hopeless, I am helpless.

I am a subject to my own form of insanity.

That's a thing about insanity.

it comes in many different ways.

Anxiety, Fear, OCD, simple concern. My insanity they say can be cured with a few pills from a bottle, a few comforting words. But it cannot. Insanity is not cured by so called medicines, or kind touches, or even words. No one knows how to overcome insanity. I do not know how to overcome insanity. I do not know how to overcome myself. I am consumed. All that I am now, apparently, is something I have been diagnosed with. The doctor spoke it, my mind confirms it, and so it becomes me.

Insanity is my identity.

OCD is my personality.

Words replay themselves in my head, fix it, fix it, fix it now. Piano keys being struck by an obnoxious child who only knows one two. The two same cords being struck by a singer in the darkness, a dancer in the twilight, a violinist in the dusk. Eternal repetition, the same keys every time.

A relay race I can not escape. Over, and over, and over.

She looks at me with that expression as I collapse over by the wall, hands pressing uselssly against it.

I can not fix it. I am useless. I am worthless. I am trash.

Hopeless, useless, worthless, helpless.

A slave to those same cords being struck over and over again. I am a parent who does not have the gall to get up and tell their child to stop this absurd behavior.

_"It's okay, Kid, really. The picture is fine."_

But it's not.

It's shattered.

Just like my soul.

Just like my mind.

 


End file.
